REVIEW / 'Hell's Kitchen' sends Ramsay on the rampage

Tim Goodman

Published
4:00 am PDT, Monday, May 30, 2005

Hells Kitchen, reality series, 9 tonight, Fox

It's a terrible disservice that Gordon Ramsay, a world-famous chef, noted hothead and central figure in Fox's new reality series, "Hell's Kitchen," is called "the Simon Cowell of the kitchen" by one of the contestants.

But American audiences may dislike the swearing, overbearing Ramsay even more than they do Cowell, because in "Hell's Kitchen" there's no nice girl Paula Abdul or obsequious Randy Jackson to temper the embarrassment of having food shoved back in your chest or to dilute the obnoxiousness of a chef who drops f-bombs on unsatisfied customers.

You'd think that anger would play well in this country -- we of the short fuses, drive-by shootings, post office meltdowns and parental wilding at girls soccer games. But no.

Just ask NBC and, more specifically, Anne Robinson, the British host of "The Weakest Link," which NBC imported and then hyped her rude behavior with contestants. The Queen of Mean was famous for belittling players and saying, "You are the weakest link -- goodbye!," after sneering at them and dropping a vicious one-liner. Millions of people tuned in to see Robinson be bad, then ultimately decided the show itself was bad.

With the reality trend veering wildly away from the tawdry and mean, can a series about wannabe chefs being bullied into shape by a famous and famously mean chef really work? Will Americans take to Ramsay (born in Scotland, made famous in England) because he swears so much that not only does Fox have to bleep him constantly, it has to blur his mouth as well? Rage -- very American.

But not on our TV sets. Call it hypocrisy. But it's true. We can take Donald Trump saying, "You're fired!" only because he's a pussycat most of the time and his ridiculous hair and reputation for grand pomposity make him less than threatening. Ramsay, on the other hand, has a sprout of what can best be described as "angry hair" sitting on top of a head that clearly means business and a mug just rutted and villainous enough to seem scary.

Simon Cowell? Please. Ramsay would have Cowell making pastries for him in five minutes.

The American version of "Hell's Kitchen" features 12 ordinary people, all wannabe chefs -- a handful of them actual working chefs -- and places them in a Los Angeles boot camp/restaurant called, appropriately enough, "Hell's Kitchen." Ramsay toughens them up and they get eliminated, one by one, until some thick-skinned kitchen maestro is the last one standing and now runs his or her own restaurant.

Familiar, yes? More than you know. "Hell's Kitchen" is dangerously close to "The Apprentice." Some clever scribe has no doubt already called it "The Apprentice Meets Iron Chef." Truth is, there's some "Survivor" in there as well. Almost nothing in "Hell's Kitchen" is unique to the reality genre -- it's painfully derivative on so many fronts that it sometimes seems you're watching five reality shows at once.

Another problem comes from a suspect setup in the series -- a conceit that's not entirely believable. The 12 would-be chefs get their first surprise when the "Big Brother"-like restaurant -- with cameras everywhere and TV lights glaring -- opens for business on their first day. In walk, ahem, actual customers. And because Ramsay has a reputation to protect -- Fox says he's been voted best chef in England for nine years running, he's a famous food author and has a string of Michelin-star rated restaurants -- he's not going to let the diners eat bad food.

So he stops plates from going out, all the while swearing at his incompetent cooks. Hours go by and irate diners begin to approach the open kitchen. Note to anyone eating in a real Gordon Ramsay restaurant: Do not, under any circumstances, approach the chef. Stay out of the kitchen!

Though it's shocking to see the customers get their heads torn off, savvy viewers know they've signed a consent form to be on television. What wording was used? Were they told that, hey, this is a TV series with bad chefs -- don't expect Michelin-worthy dining? Were they told in bold type that the food was not representative of the very expensive, wonderful work of Ramsay's other places and this should in no way dampen their enthusiasm for his celebrity chef-ness?

Confusing.

And if, in the spirit of Ramsay, we're heaping scorn on top of disdain, it should be noted that Cowell, for all his hyped-up meanness, is actually pretty witty. After two episodes of "Hell's Kitchen," it's nearly impossible to remember a moment when Ramsay wasn't spewing venom at everybody. It's devoid of humor.

There appears to be some relief coming, a kind of tough-love moment of Zen when viewers will realize that Ramsay is actually a good guy, a talented teacher and only slightly twisted motivator.

That would be more in line with Ramsay's previous gig, seen here on BBC America: "Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares." That four-episode series was compelling television that made Ramsay into a riveting television presence. What happened to that guy? Perhaps television execs found that by ramping him up, the ratings rose as well.

Anyone who watched the not-ready-for-mass-appeal reality series "The Restaurant" on NBC should know this: Ramsay is a whole lot tougher and cooler than Rocco DiSpirito. Ramsay may be a rock star chef, but he doesn't act like it. You get the feeling he's always been gruff and rude. It has little to do with ego. There's room for empathy. But he is who he is.

And yet the question remains -- why magnify the unpleasantness in Ramsay? Must he be so over-the-top? He appears to be playing along with is media-fueled reputation here -- another factor that hurts the believability in "Hell's Kitchen." Is this what the people want, a Rude Boy for the gastronomical set? Maybe so. But in England, they know he's mostly posing. In America, they take you at face value. And like Robinson before Ramsay, that sneering, angry mug might not be the best face to put forward.